


Fire

by asexualthetasigma



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Memories, Not Really Character Death, Other, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Sad, but the doctor is dealing with Grief, i guess, i have no idea how to tag things i am sorry, i'm sad :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualthetasigma/pseuds/asexualthetasigma
Summary: The Doctor and the Master have been tied together across thousands of years, and the one thing that always keeps them together (or perhaps apart) are the flames that burn within and around them.(In other words, the Doctor and the Master's relationship past, and the guilt that the Doctor feels for what they think they've done to their best friend).
Relationships: The Doctor | Theta Sigma/The Master | Koschei (Doctor Who: Academy Era), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Kudos: 3





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i have been writing for A While now but this is officially the first fic that I publish for other people to read. which is cool. i haven't fully checked if this needs to be edited or not hehheh so i only hope there are no mistakes, if there are i apologise. this made me really sad to write, so obviously i hope you enjoy it! have a very nice day everyone!! :D  
> \- jenn

Theta had tears in his eyes, and he couldn’t blink. The fire was burning bright and tall, the only thing lighting up what surrounded him out here, so distant, so alone, in the dark. He allowed the tears to fall, he let the light burn his eyes, he couldn’t close them. He almost prayed for a miracle, and he felt that if for one second, he let go of Koschei’s hand...   
  
Far away, in another time, they had lost what they had long ago. Theta and Koschei against the universe, running away together to see the stars and beyond, hand in hand. That was ancient history, _a friendship older than our civilisation and infinitely more complex_ ... Stranded together, the first time they saw each other since the last, forever changed into something else, an unparalleled rivalry between a newfound morality, an atavistic insanity, and an eternal love, the Doctor and the Master had nothing much in common anymore, and yet, they were still the same people they were back then. Why couldn’t they stop — fulfill their promises? When had their conflicts begun? Was it when long ago a young boy stared into the vastness of time and was captured by the hands of fate? Was it, perhaps, a sense of abandonment after the sudden disappearance of the other? Or was it when two silhouettes held each other’s hands in the night, far away from everything they had ever known, clutching at each other for life, knowing neither of them could ever live with the burden of the fire they had lit?   
  
It was too late, the Doctor decided as he fell. That connection didn’t mean the same to them anymore, if they could do this to each other and stand by, only watching the flames from afar.   
  
It was too late, the Master thought as he realised what it was he was doing, a final moment near the eye of harmony. How had they come to this, those two inseparable boys?   
  
Gallifrey was aflame, and the Doctor had no hand to hold. He had already lost the connection he had before that had tethered him to the ground the last time he had had to stare at a fire and carry its weight. His hand wasn’t there, Koschei was gone and so was their home, and it was all the Doctor’s fault.   
  
But perhaps there was hope, he could hear, feel, the regeneration energy seeping from the watch. It was him, it was the Master, and the Doctor let himself feel hope again, that even if not in the conditions they had hoped for in the academy, Theta and koschei would still someday be together again to see the stars.   
  
And perhaps it hadn’t been the fire that had made them drift apart after all, although the Doctor supposed it was still his fault that the Master had heard that noise since he looked into the schism.   
  
But then there was fire, and he was gone again.   
  
He had lost hope so many times before, but losing him two times after he had returned, without any possibility to know if he was still alive, tore the Doctor apart at the core. He had done it again — taken his side, he had felt their connection again, and then he walked into the light, and...   
  
There she stood, he had felt her pulse, she had said who she was, it was her, she was alive. She was alive, and she had changed. Her head was filled with the ashes of the fire the Time Lords had kept burning in her head throughout all the centuries of her life, so the fire no longer consumed it all. She was different, and the Doctor couldn’t help but wonder for one second if she would ever consider coming back to him. Of course not, that was a silly thought...   
  
He was unsure and suspicious of course when she told him that she wanted to finally stand with him. But this time was different. When he held her hand it was like it had been back then, only with so many more years of life and conflict and distance. But it was there, it really was, the promise was there again, like tendrils of regeneration energy healing a wound. _Every star in the universe_ ... Missy was promising, she meant it. She would run away with him, even after all this time.   
  
_That's the trouble with hope. It’s hard to resist_ . Of course he let her in, slowly, cautiously, because he wasn’t sure if he could live with losing her again, like he had so many times before. He let her in, he let her learn, he let time heal the wounds they had inflicted on each other through the years. He let their love grow again, a flower sprouting from the grave of the ancient tree they had once allowed to grow, trampled without explanation when she left him again, and the Doctor would die without ever truly knowing if it had all been one of her tricks.   
  
He chose to believe it hadn’t been, but then Gallifrey was aflame once more, and the Doctor wondered if she had really lost him now. The Doctor wondered if this moment was a good one to let go of the hope she had held on to for centuries, that perhaps, one day he would be her friend again like he had once been. Why had he done this to their home, to the place where they had once been so close? The planet had held a reminder of those times past, and now that past was only ashes left behind to blend with the dust, merely a dream rather than a memory. But the Doctor didn’t like losing hope, she couldn’t do that to herself or her best friend, still, even after losing it all.   
  
But he had started a spark again, with his evil smirk, his TCE, and his latest atrocious masterpiece. They marched towards her in the broken panopticon, and every step wore her down more and more. Was she in her right to condemn him, to believe he was wrong for what he had done? As she held the bomb she wondered in what could be their last moment, were either of them really good people? No, she wasn’t so much more than him, even if she had said so. Here she was, doing it again, pressing the button, letting go. How fitting that at least in this moment, he was there with her. A fitting ending for everything the Doctor had ever loved.   
  
They did say that she would die in a battlefield, hadn’t they?   
  
Alas, she was alive, and she was lost. She had no clue who she was, and nowhere to look for answers. No clues, no ideas, nobody to ask. And in a cell in the dark, almost praying for a miracle, another line was sketched on the wall, with a thought lingering in the air. The Doctor reached out but his hand wasn’t there, Koschei was gone and so was their home, and it was all the Doctor’s fault.   
  



End file.
